Facedown
by Meethrill
Summary: Something I found on my comp. Do you think its worth continuing? Let me know!


**This wasn't my first day at school, no. but school wasn't new to me, or anyone in America that could write. Even those that have never been to a 'real' school before, that were home or parent taught, knew what school was… or meant. Lots and lots of homework, classes, grumpy teachers that just want to get their day done, and last but not least, other students pestering you.**

**But that's not the point I'm trying to get at… no, my point was that I wish it were my first day of school. Then I could have avoided the days happenings completely.**

"**You can't be telling me that you don't want that," Mendy groaned. I had to of been staring at the bloody burger for five whole minutes. I wasn't even sure I'd blinked. I was just out of it, and I wasn't sure why. I just was.**

"**Oh, for crimneys sake…" she reached over and snatched the thing right off of my lunch tray, which I didn't mind, but a warning may've been nice. The sauce squirted over me and I think I jumped a quarter mile.**

"**Mendy!"**

"**I'm sorry!" she said, and then she continued grouse it out some more, squawking about how sorry she was.. She looked horrified, even though the shirt I had on was black. Ugh, animal blood… I tried wiping at it with my napkin, which crumbled into little bits, leaving napkin bits everywhere, so I got up, even more disgusted than before.**

"**I'll be right back, okay?" I said, and then I turned and got out of the table as Mendy nodded, looking morose. I left the lunch room nice and quickly, without too much distraction... or direction. I bumped into the school bullies buddy and kept my pace, nearly leaping into the bathroom. I ran the hot water until it was as hot as I could stand it and shrugged out of the shirt I'd had on. I washed it quickly. I closed my vest, and hoped it'd be enough to run in a beeline for my locker, to get my gym shirt out.**

**When I got there, it was there. Good. Sure, it was clean, but there was a reason it was my gym shirt. It was bright white, and though new, anyone who had gym knew what sweat stains were, even if they weren't that prominent… yet. All that I had to say was thank you god I had my vest. At least it would distract, but the blood red vest that'd gone nicely with the black shirt now looked strange with the white shirt on. I was just putting my now damp, dirty black shirt in my locker on a hook (where else could I put it?) when a hand shot past me and grabbed the bloody thing.**

"**What's this?" a voice hissed. I stood frozen. I knew that voice, sadly. "N-nothing," I stuttered unconvincingly. I tried getting him to get go of my shirt but he just held on, and if anything, gripped it harder. Weiss Gathron wasn't the 'nice' kid. And none of his 'friends' seemed to be either. He pulled the shirt off of the hanger, taking the hanger with it, and made a show of smelling it.**

**I just looked at him. Ok. He smelled my shirt, why? I had a second to be grossed out. Well, at least I'd never wear that shirt again, the way he'd tern the collar, it'd be next to impossible to fix. He looked disappointed. I looked afraid. His goon friend I'd brushed up against looked venomously cheerful. "Blood on a black shirt. Why bother washing it off?"**

"**Because blood stains turn brown, you twit," I muttered. I regretted it instantly. Angry, he threw me against my locker and glared at me. His buddy stared as though he were gleaning a great knowledge I could only guess at from Weiss. I stayed very still. I didn't want to move, because might make me regret it. He was being nice, for him. He hadn't pounded me into the wall, yet.**

**I did the only thing that I could think of. I put on my scared face (not hard) and pretended to look behind them both. "Hello, Mr. Gardener."**

**Bam.**

**Dropped like a rock. My other shock was that Mr. Gardener was really there. I gazed up through my double vision and found him glaring at the boys angrily. They motioned to me and so did he, but I could only hear dim echoes. I closed my eyes, which had started seeing small, red spots. I realized the bam had been a punch, and that I'd fallen down from it. It took me a second to feel hands tug and my waist, but moving my head hurt, I had a sudden headache.**

**-**

**The next thing I remembered was me waking up in the hospital. Mr. Gardener was reading a newspaper, and no one else seemed to be in the room but us. I'm not sure how I knew, but I did. I licked my lips. Not cracked. Good. Maybe I hadn't been out for long. Was Weiss's punching really that bad? Was it really that strong? Apparently it was, or I wasn't lying on my ass in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. I was on my back, the way I usually never slept, but lately, that'd been changing anyway, so at least I wasn't as uncomfortable as I could've been.**

**I took my time but I chocked out a "Whuh?" sound, and Mr. Gardener put his paper down, looking at me in mild surprise.**

"**You chose to wake up tonight then, did you?" He asked, and then he smiled. He seemed to have very sharp, brisk looking set of casual clothes on. Usually he would be in his school uniform, not business casual stuff. I guess you have to be comfortable to be visiting at the hospital, I thought. I had to get up. I didn't feel hurt. But Mr. Gardener noticed and pushed me down lightly. He looked semi-serious.**

"**Don't get moon fever, now. You can't just wander around nude, either."**

"**Nude!?" I choked out dryly, looking down, and to my relief, I was still covered everywhere, but I could feel the truth of his words hit when I 'felt' no clothes on me. Mr. Gardener laughed and stroked my hair, a gesture I wasn't sure I appreciated.**

"**Don't worry son, we never saw anything."**

**We?**

**I looked around again, more fully, as I must have missed someone. And I had. Weiss was there, and I stared at him coldly. He looked down. I followed his gaze and saw his hands holding each other. It was strangely anxious behavior that I'd never seen him exhibit before.**

"**What's… look, what are you talking about, and Weiss, why are 'you' here? You're the one who put me here!" I pointed out irritably, and coughed a bit, my voice dry. Mr. Gardener put a warm hand on mine. Irritated, I turned to look at him. It was that awkward angle, though, where you have to look almost straight up, because Mr. Gardener is a pretty tall man anyway. My neck and face ached, like all the stuff that would have let me look before were suddenly all strung too closely together to let me anymore, but I pushed it, looking up with my eyes instead of looking all the way up at Mr. Gardener. The look on his face was eloquent where Weiss's had be utterly shocked and angry. Without another look, I threw my gaze to the window behind Mr. Gardener like it was something that had done me a personal wrong. It was when I realized it was dark, and that half of my face was bloody and healing.**

**The darkness outside reflected the light in the room, and it reacted like a mirror to show me every fine line and slice. I looked like I'd been through an attack dog rally, and lost. I felt my face and it stung like fire hit it. Some things don't hurt until you know they're there.**

"**What did you do to me?" I gasped, and it sounded amazingly alarming, a sound I didn't know I could make.**

"**Weiss is a…"**

"**Bully." Weiss interrupted. "Look, I'm sorry… it got out of hand. All I ask is that you don't press charges." Weiss pled, I looked at him, tears trailing down my face from the pain, stinging the wound on the right side of my face, causing even more pain. I let them run. I felt myself become dizzy from the pain f the salt in my tears searing the wounds, and I realized something else. My hands hurt. I looked down to see my hands clenching the cover so hard that my knuckles were white.**

"**Weiss... if I get out of this bed, I will kill you." I promised. I meant it. "You won't have to worry about anything except for my hands digging your windpipe out!"**

"**What!?" Weiss snarled.**

**I looked up, and I jumped. He was at the foot of the bed, and he looked very mad.**

"**Weiss," I began, wincing from my own tears, "look at me."**

**He didn't.**

"**Look at me!!" I yelled at him. He jumped, and looked.**

"**If you were in my place, and I did this to you, you'd hunt me down. You might even kill me."**

**He nodded, and I was shocked to remember that Mr Gardener was there as well when he took a step back. I looked at him.**

**Mistake.**

**I saw my reflection again. And I hid from it, turning away. Weiss was watching me, and Mr. Gardener was watching Weiss.**

"**I've got to."**

"**Not like this. You've done enough harm," Mr Gardener said calmly, his fingers brushed a vital going into my arm lightly. I wondered if it was a nervous gesture before he spoke again. This time, to me. **

"**You can't imagine how lucky you are, you know. You've been given the cursed gift of living. "**

"**Stop being cryptic. What are you not telling me? "**

"**Tell her, already!" Weiss said, looking to Mr Gardener. "If you won't let me, then you do it."**

**They stared at each other, and I realized my pain was subsiding. I'd stopped crying. I wanted to know their secret. It was better than focusing on what was left of my face, anyway.**


End file.
